Rock Bottom
by sheepish123
Summary: Amanda's life is spiraling rapidly out of control and in utter desperation, she turns to the one person who has lost all trust in her. Takes place between "Gambler's Fallacy" and "Beast's Obsession". Dark. Trigger warnings inside. Three-shot. Amanda/Olivia pairing. *INCOMPLETE*
1. Chapter 1

**This story takes place in season 15, between the episodes "Gambler's Fallacy" and "Beast's Obsession" and is my own version of what Amanda was going through in her personal life at that point in time. Olivia is still in recovery from her abduction by William Lewis and the trial, but he has not yet reappeared in her life at this point. I wanted to write about Amanda hitting rock bottom after the events of "Gambler's Fallacy" and how she tries to repair her broken work relationship with Olivia, along with exploring the feelings she has for her boss.**

 **This story is a dark three-shot and is rated "M" for adult themes, which include sexual situations and suicidal ideation, so please take care if you feel that you might be triggered by reading this. There is not a lot of conversation in the first chapter, but there will be more in the next couple of updates.  
**

 **I know I'm very behind with several of my other stories and I'm continuing to work on them, despite the massive amount of writer's block I'm currently having with those fics.**

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" _I'm miles from where you are_

 _I lay down on the cold ground_

 _I pray that something picks me up_

 _And sets me down in your warm arms"_

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"Hey, blondie, you think you're gonna come anytime soon? My hand is getting tired."

Amanda Rollins gives an irritated roll of her big blue eyes before squeezing them shut and concentrating as hard as she possibly can, trying to block out the obnoxious music that is blaring from the other side of the bathroom door and the raucous laughter from a few of her fellow bar patrons who are loitering outside of their locked stall. Her sweaty forehead is pressed into the cool, grimy metal of the tiny cubicle, fingertips scrabbling for purchase across the bumpy surface as the dark-haired woman pushes into her roughly from behind, unable to bring herself to care about how indiscreet they are being.

Amanda's dress is hiked up around her waist and her underwear is pooled down at her ankles, a hand larger than her own gripping the delicate skin of her hip with enough force to leave bruises while the other remains buried deeply between her legs, pumping in and out to no avail. She lets loose with a frustrated growl, inhaling the sharp scents of alcohol and cigarettes when she draws in a deep breath, trying to surrender herself to the sensation at the juncture of her thighs that should feel pleasant but is beginning to border on a little too harsh for her liking.

"Fuck, I got a cramp in my arm now," the husky voice grunts impatiently right next to her ear. "Hurry up, Georgia Peach. It usually doesn't take you this damn long to come."

"Well, maybe if you would shut the hell up, we could get this done a little faster," Amanda gasps out, desperate for some relief as those long fingers continue to piston in and out at an increasingly rapid pace, a burn that is equal parts pleasure and pain taking up residence inside her core now. "I don't want to hear your voice."

"Aww, why, sweetie? Because I don't sound like _her?"_ The dark chuckle that follows this question only serves to ratchet up Amanda's already foul mood, and she curses herself for coming here tonight in an effort to curb the overwhelming urge to gamble; determined that those bleak, terrifying days are now behind her and she has turned over a new leaf.

In the process of trying to discard one bad habit from her life; a vice that had become potentially life-threatening at the height of all the chaos involving Declan Murphy and her sergeant finding out how she had chosen to occupy her time in her off-hours, Amanda has picked up a couple of other distasteful habits to replace that all-consuming need to gamble. While she has always been a big fan of most types of alcohol, enjoying different kinds of booze since long before she was actually of legal drinking age, Amanda has been imbibing a little more frequently lately, seeking to settle her nerves and soothe herself to sleep after long days of working under the heavy weight of her sergeant's watchful gaze, Olivia keeping such a tight reign on her at the precinct that Amanda feels as if she is being suffocated on a daily basis.

It is not the kind of attention that she wants from the older woman; her admiration and awe of Olivia upon arrival from Atlanta having slowly formed into a good working relationship between the two colleagues, with the first tentative tendrils of friendship beginning to grow amidst them, before it had all come crashing down due to Amanda's inability to keep control over her addictive behavior. Any desire that she may have had to take her blossoming friendship with Olivia even further; to transition from working at the precinct to hanging out together on weekends, going to the movies or eating at restaurants or sharing the occasional jog through Central Park, have been completely dashed in the wake of the events from a few weeks previous.

Now that Olivia's trust in Amanda has been entirely obliterated and she is holding onto her job at the Special Victims Unit by a thread that seems to become narrower and more frayed with each passing day, those feelings that have simmered deep down inside since long before her transfer to New York; the tiniest trace of hope that perhaps one day far in the future, after their friendship has had time to flourish and they have grown closer to one another, Amanda would be able to gather enough courage to reveal just how deep her feelings actually go, have been squashed.

Any chance of this happening with Olivia; of a friendship or something more, is now completely shattered with no hope of rebuilding what was lost and trying to move forward, and Amanda has been left wandering helplessly through the wreckage of her own making, grasping at any straw she possibly can to try and stay afloat and keep herself from sinking beneath the murky depths of total despair. She had already been on somewhat shaky ground with her superior even before the events with Declan Murphy had taken place, Amanda struggling with issues in her personal life and Olivia continuing to come to terms with what William Lewis had recently put her through, but she was confident that anything amiss between them could be fixed with a little time and effort.

As Amanda slumps against the inside of the dingy bathroom stall, feeling the voluptuous breasts of her companion pushing into her back and those slender fingers working so diligently between her thighs, she is dismally aware that all hope has now been lost; that she has absolutely no idea how to get back into Olivia's good graces and keep doing her job to the best of her ability. A black sort of resignation has set in over the past several weeks; a forlorn sense of loss, along with a knowledge that things will never be able to revert back to the way they were before she had screwed up so badly and that Amanda will continue traveling down a very dark road of her own making, even if it no longer involves the diversion she loves above all else.

The activity she is currently indulging in; drunken sex with a near-stranger in a public restroom of a rowdy bar, is something she had never seen herself doing in the past, an action she would never have considered taking until it had suddenly been presented to her after Olivia had chewed her out in her office and Amanda had escaped the squad room with tears streaking her face and a bruise marring one prominent cheekbone. Having taken refuge in a bar down the street with an ill-conceived plan to drown her sorrows and erase any thoughts of Olivia's grim words and the disappointed look in those beautiful brown eyes, Amanda had ended up sitting beside a woman who bore a striking resemblance to the boss she had just run away from.

This woman looks to be near Olivia's age, with the same skin tone and hair coloring, those large eyes dark and penetrating, but without the warmth and compassion that always shines from Olivia's gaze; a chilled and somewhat apathetic look greeting Amanda whenever they come into contact with one another for this kind of release. The obvious physical similarities to her sergeant were what had first attracted Amanda to her; along with a desperate need for forgiveness and comfort and a distraction from those intense gambling urges, to lose herself in something pleasurable that would make her forget about the hell her life had become, and to try and erase any thoughts of the future she could have had with Olivia if things had turned out differently. They had begun to share bits and pieces of their broken lives with one another over bottles of beer and shots of whisky, during games of pool and throwing darts, and it hadn't taken very long to move to the next logical step; screwing each other like wild animals wherever they could find a convenient spot to do so.

This woman's likeness to Olivia does not extend past the enticing physical attributes, however, and Amanda winces and swallows back a whimper when the rapid movement of her fingers thrust too deeply inside and she feels the sharp scrape of a nail along her tender walls, this degrading act that is taking place in the stall of a public restroom becoming a little too brutal for her enjoyment.

"Will you slow down it down a little back there?" she snaps angrily, throwing a disgruntled look over her shoulder and trying to disguise the pain in her voice, relieved when the quick pace of those long fingers begin to dissipate somewhat. "You're hurting me."

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were such a delicate little flower, sweetheart. I'm just trying to move things along here," the older woman replies without a trace of contrition evident in her tone. "I've got better things to do tonight besides trying to help a little blonde bitch get her rocks off. You were the one who came to me for this, remember?"

Amanda feels an immediate wash of shame as she listens to the amused giggles and heated whispers of the group of woman gathered by the row of sinks; can see them reapplying lipstick in the mirror through the thin crack between the stall door and the dirty wall, scrolling through their phones and snapping drunken pictures of one another, although their attention seems to be mostly fixated on what is happening inside this particular cubicle.

There are humiliated tears welling up in her eyes now, stricken at just how low she has allowed herself to fall; that this is not the first time a situation like this has taken place inside the bathroom of a grungy little bar, and it will most likely not be the last, sharing copious amounts of drinks and multiple sexual encounters with this brutal woman who continues to push into her from behind while Amanda tries to close her legs against the hand that now seems more like an intrusion instead of an escape.

"Ah, geez, just calm down, will ya, blondie?" There is a heavy sigh against Amanda's neck and a gust of beer-scented breath that ruffles her sleek golden hair. "I'll go slower if you want me too. Just pretend I'm her; that boss of yours who's always giving you such a hard time, the one you're in love with. I'll quit talking so you can get into the right frame of mind."

Amanda had been about to pull away and fix her clothing with the intention of making a hasty exit from this depressing place that has become her second home, to put some space between her and this awful woman who is actually nothing like Olivia at all but someone she has spilled her deepest and darkest secrets to in a desperate effort to make a connection with another human being; the words that have just been spoken make her stop short in her tracks.

Beautiful images of Olivia Benson fill Amanda's mind as the fingers buried at the juncture of her thighs caress her soaked folds at a more languid pace and a thumb draws gentle circles around her swollen clit, her back arching into the taller figure behind her and a low moan escaping her lips. Olivia's name is poised on the tip of her tongue and she tries to keep from screaming it out into the room as she imagines the gorgeous body and nimble fingers of her sergeant bringing her such pleasure, Olivia's plump lips kissing a tender trail along her neck as she swiftly guides Amanda toward that much-needed release.

A detailed storyline quickly takes up residence within Amanda's brain; that the events of the past few weeks had never actually happened, that she has never even gambled in her life and is instead involved in a loving and committed relationship with Olivia, the older woman making love to her on the bed in the apartment they share, rather than being screwed from behind in a bathroom stall by a woman she can't even stand. She can feel a delicious tingling sensation in her groin that spreads upwards into her stomach and begins to encompass the rest of her body, so caught up in the fantasy that is currently playing out inside her mind that she is briefly convinced it actually _is_ Olivia who is bringing her to such ecstasy as she writhes and bucks in the other woman's embrace when the intense orgasm finally takes hold.

Amanda is immediately brought back to harsh reality when a loud round of applause goes up in the bathroom and echoes throughout the stall, laughter and cheers sounding from the women milling around the sinks, and she realizes just how loud her release was and that the woman who had given it to her is now laughing as well, looking smug and proud as she wrenches open the cubicle door and gives a deep bow to their audience. This gesture is met with more whooping and hollering from the drunken bar patrons, along with high-fives and smirks, and the tears that have been hovering in Amanda's eyes are now trickling down her cheeks as she hurriedly pulls her underwear back into place and yanks her dress down over her hips.

Her head is hanging low with shame and regret and humiliation as she rushes from the room amid raucous catcalls and groping hands, shoving her way through the thick crowd so she can pluck her jacket from the stool she had been sitting on and squeeze through the crush of bodies into the frigid winter air outside. Amanda is sobbing in despair as she stumbles down the icy front steps of the bar, gripping onto the railing with shaking hands so she doesn't slip, and cursing herself for being stupid enough to wear high heels in this terrible weather.

She searches frantically for a cab as she totters unsteadily along the sidewalk, wanting nothing more than to be tucked into bed in her warm and safe apartment with Frannie, and when she can't seem to locate a taxi in a timely fashion, Amanda ducks into a nearby alleyway for some shelter from the cold wind and to light up a cigarette, hoping the familiar action with help calm her nerves. Just as she is fishing the smoke and a lighter from a pocket of her coat, one of Amanda's skinny heels hit an icy patch on the gravel and her legs go skidding out from under her.

Before she can even try to regain her lost balance and keeping herself upright, arms windmilling wildly and feet madly trying to regain purchase on the slippery surface of the ground, Amanda goes tumbling onto the snowy pavement in a tangled pile of twisted limbs and disheveled hair and wrinkled clothing. She lays there in stunned silence for a moment, the wind knocked right from her lungs, staring up at the tiny strip of inky black sky that is visible between the tops of the tall buildings that rise up beside her like giants in the night, too shocked to even move or to try taking a breath and unsure if she has broken a limb or is bleeding from a wound.

When it is still fairly quiet a few minutes later, the only sounds coming from the people entering and exiting the bar in a flurry of discussion and laughter, and the low drone of music emanating from inside the walls of the establishment, Amanda realizes with a small sigh of relief that no one else had been there to witness her embarrassing fall and that she can quickly pick herself back up and dust herself off like this had never even happened; no one the wiser. She can continue on with her evening like nothing is wrong, like she hadn't just let some near-stranger get her off in a public washroom while they had been surrounded by an audience, like she isn't desperately in love with a woman who can now barely stand the sight of her in the squad room, like her entire life is not falling to pieces all around her and maybe she would be better off not existing anymore.

But instead of making an effort to sit up and get off the chilly ground, to seek out another cab and make it home to snuggle up with her beloved pet, Amanda simply lays there flat out on her back and continues staring up at the dark sky with a blank gaze as the tears come harder and flow down her cheeks at a seemingly unstoppable rate, pooling beneath her matted blonde hair to create small puddles of anguish and defeat on the filthy gravel beneath her.

She is feeling utterly lost and wants nothing more than to just give up; to give in to these demons that haunt her and won't leave her alone, to do something, _anything_ at all to make this pain stop, to have some peace in her life and a rest from this all-consuming chaos and dread, a break from the knowledge that she has let down the most important person in her life, the woman she loves more than anyone she has ever known but who won't ever love her back.

A myriad of disturbing scenarios run in circles through Amanda's mind; charging back into the bar she had just fled and getting so drunk that she won't be able to remember her own name, searching out the nearest casino and gambling away what little money she actually has left, even toying with the idea of using her service revolver on herself to put a permanent halt to this unending agony. Each of these possibilities is mulled over in great detail as Amanda continues to lay there in a frozen lump on the ground, turning every single thought over and over in her brain and discarding them all until she comes to the one that she knows is horribly wrong and that she needs to quit thinking about before it becomes a reality.

But once she has grabbed ahold of this particular idea, Amanda can't seem to let it go and allows her numb fingers to search through her jacket pocket for her phone, grasping onto the device with digits that are rapidly becoming too cold to move properly and scrolling down the chilly screen to find the name she is looking for. Despite everything that has happened lately, all of the terrible events that they have been through together and Olivia's utter lack of trust and downright dislike of her, there is no one else that Amanda wants to talk to in this moment, no one else she would rather be with.

She is fully aware of what a terrible plan this is; to interrupt an evening that Olivia is most likely enjoying with Cassidy, but Amanda determinedly raises the phone to her ear once she has located her sergeant's number and waits with bated breath for Olivia to answer.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end of the line sounds wary and exhausted and not the least bit welcoming, but just the act of listening to Olivia speak and hearing that familiar voice is all it takes for the sobs to come bursting out of Amanda's parted lips once again; a desperate, prolonged wail of helplessness and need from a woman who is on the verge of giving up entirely, rising into the air around her to echo off the nearby buildings.

"Amanda?"

The single word spoken from her boss in response to the likely shocking and worrying noises that are emitting from her subordinate's mouth; the three syllables that comprise Amanda's first name instead of the usual 'Rollins', are instantly full of surprise and concern, and a hint of hope swirls through Amanda's complete despair; the brief thought that maybe Olivia actually does still give a damn about her.

 _"Liv."_

Amanda can't bring herself to whimper more than the short-form of her sergeant's name in return, the constant flood of tears making it hard for her to see now and the moisture clogging her throat to the point where she can barely talk; wanting nothing more than to be wrapped up in Olivia's strong embrace and for the older woman to forgive her sins.

"Amanda, what's going on? Where are you? Are you okay?"

There is a panicked edge to Olivia's normally smooth tone, a note of alarm that spikes through the usual calm, and Amanda can hear the clomping of boots on the other end of the line; a honk of a horn and the congestion of traffic, like the other woman is also outdoors on this freezing cold night.

"I don't want to be here anymore," Amanda manages to choke out through the huge lump in her throat and the clumsiness of an inebriated tongue; unsure if she is referring to the alleyway outside of the bar or the earth as a whole, the thought of wiping her existence entirely from this planet not scaring her in the least and beginning to sound like a feasible option.

"Where?" Olivia responds in a swiftly rising voice, the striding of feet sounding much more purposeful. "Where are you right now? And where would you rather be?"

Before Amanda can stop herself, the words are tumbling forth from her mouth seemingly without permission; the short sentence garbled and drawn out on another lengthy and anguished sob, her limbs molded to the frozen ground and the tears continuing to spill in an unceasing waterfall of emotion down her flushed cheeks.

"With you."

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 _*Songs lyrics from Snow Patrol's "Set Fire to the Third Bar"_


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter picks up right where the previous one left off. Just a reminder that this story takes place in season 15, between "Gambler's Fallacy" and "Beast's Obsession" and deals with mature themes.  
**

 **I had initially planned for this fic to be a two-shot but I've decided that there will be one more chapter after this.**

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" _Hold me down, I'm so tired now_

 _Aim your arrow at the sky_

 _Take me down, I'm too tired now_

 _Leave me where I lie"_

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"Amanda, I want you to stay on the phone with me. I'm getting in a cab right now and coming to where you are. Don't go anywhere, okay?"

Amanda gives a briefly amused snort in response to her sergeant's frantic words, not bothering to inform Olivia that she seems to be unable to move from her spot on the dirty, frozen ground, and likely won't be able to stagger to her feet and wobble out of the alley, even if she feels so inclined. At this point, she is quite sure that no major damage has been done as a result of her fall, no broken bones or open wounds, but her body aches from head to toe; a deep and unrelenting exhaustion that permeates to the very core of her being and makes the decision to stay in her sprawled position flat out on the icy gravel an easy one.

"Can you keep talking to me until I get there? Can you tell me what's been going on lately and why you're crying right now?"

Olivia's voice is more gentle and caring than Amanda can ever remember it being, at least when directed toward her, and she swallows around the huge lump that has risen inside her throat, not knowing where to even begin. She had given the older woman the address of the bar when Olivia had asked where she was, surprised when her superior had announced that she would be arriving at Amanda's location as soon as possible and still unclear on what Olivia had been doing when she had called her so suddenly.

Amanda wonders if she has interrupted a date between her boss and Brian Cassidy, and although there is a hint of guilt at this prospect; that she is taking Olivia away from something that brings her joy and is a respite from the brutality of their jobs, there is an overwhelming sense of relief as well. There is a certain amount of comfort that Amanda feels, knowing Olivia is on her way and will soon be joining her in this cramped and dismal alleyway; a little slice of the city that seems to have been entirely forgotten as fellow bar patrons and other pedestrians stroll on by without so much as a glance in her direction.

Traces of jealousy and fear are making themselves known among the myriad of complex emotions that are threatening to drown her in their intensity; Amanda acknowledging that she has been envious of Olivia and Brian's relationship right from the start. She is frightened that Olivia will be resentful and angry at the intrusion into her personal life on a Saturday night; forced to leave her date and attend to a subordinate who is rapidly coming apart at the seams.

When she hears Olivia's concerned voice in her ear again, repeating what she has just asked, Amanda flinches in surprise as she is pulled from her whirling thoughts and realizes that she hasn't given the other woman an answer yet. There doesn't appear to be any reply forthcoming as Amanda scrambles to say something, anything at all to begin appeasing Olivia's obvious worry, and remains silent as she lays there staring up at the tiny strip of black sky that is visible above her prone body.

The only sound that emits from lips that are swiftly turning from pink to blue is another desperate sob, and Amanda listens to the audible intake of air that echoes down the line in return, Olivia urging her to talk and tell her what's happening. She is stunned at the depth of emotion that is now apparent in her sergeant's voice in response to her detective's despair, and recognizes the spike of panic in Olivia's tone as she speaks again.

"Amanda, I need you to talk to me right now, please. Tell me what's happening."

No matter how hard she tries, Amanda can't bring herself to even begin attempting to explain everything that is going on inside her head; the complete and utter hopelessness that has overtaken her these past several weeks as she battles an addiction that seems determined to swallow her whole and engages in humiliating and degrading sexual acts in her free time; not to mention her all-consuming love for a woman she can't have. Strangled noises of defeat are the only sounds that emit from her throat and she doesn't find her voice again until she realizes that Olivia has now arrived at her location, blaring rock music and drunken laughter coming through very clearly on the other end of the line.

"Amanda, I'm at the bar and I can't find you anywhere! I've checked inside and out. Where are you?"

"I'm around the corner in the alleyway," she mumbles tiredly, struggling to move limbs that seem to have molded themselves into the pavement as it registers how pathetic and ridiculous she is going to look to her sergeant when Olivia sees her just laying there in a dejected lump.

Amanda's slow and clumsy movements are not nearly quick enough to beat Olivia's speedy arrival in the alley, and the loud gasp that echoes throughout the narrow space rings in her ears as the swift clomping of boots come closer and stop right next to her head.

"My god, Amanda, what happened to you? Are you alright? Do I need to call a bus?"

She is aware of Olivia kneeling down beside her now, the other woman's hands roaming over her body in an alarmed manner like she is checking for injuries, and Amanda tries to brush off any concerns and assure her that she is fine; that she had merely taken a tumble onto the slick ground. She doesn't mention that it is emotional turmoil rather than physical harm that is keeping her here on the icy gravel, and winces in shame when she gets a better look at Olivia and takes note of her appearance; the brunette's hair carefully styled although somewhat windblown from her rush into the alleyway, and her clothing and makeup impeccable.

"I knew it," she murmurs with an immense regret that has overtaken the relief at Olivia coming to her aid, shrugging away from her superior's gentle touch. "I knew I was interrupting something. I'm fine, Liv, Just leave me here and go back to whatever it is you were doing. Go back to Cassidy," Amanda adds in a low, sorrowful tone, turning away from the older woman altogether as her dress rides up her frozen thighs with the graceless movement.

"Amanda, don't be ridiculous," Olivia snaps out with an edge of incredulity and impatience apparent in her voice; those strong, soft hands on her body again as the taller woman tries to get her to turn back over. "I'm not leaving you here. You're freezing cold and not dressed for the weather. We need to get you out of here right now."

"Please don't be angry with me, Olivia," Amanda begs brokenly as the tears that had begun to slow start up once more. "I honestly can't handle it right now and I'd rather you just leave me here if that's how it's going to be. It was a mistake to call you and ruin your evening. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

She can't seem to stop the drunken, anguished babbling that is coursing from lips that are becoming too cold to move properly, Olivia's hands placed firmly against her shoulders now as if in an effort to put a halt to both Amanda's words and actions.

"Shhh, honey, I'm not angry with you, okay?" Olivia's voice is softer when she replies, the brunette's hands sliding around Amanda's ribs to carefully hoist her into a sitting position. "And you're not interrupting anything with Brian and I. We just broke up, actually, and I was about to head home when you called me. He's staying with a friend for the night."

Amanda's eyebrows fly upwards at this unexpected personal revelation, stunned that Olivia has chosen to share something so private with her and unsure of whether to feel ecstatic or upset by this news. There is an ache in her chest at the thought of Olivia possibly being hurt by Cassidy, or the older woman feeling sadness of any kind for any reason, although she can admit to herself that she has never liked the man and has always wanted Olivia to be with her instead.

Amanda is about to apologize again for dragging Olivia to this seedy bar when her sergeant probably wants nothing more than to go home and make a hot cup of tea or curl up in bed and cry, unable to get an accurate read on how Olivia is feeling about this break-up, when there is another sharp gasp emitted into the air. There is a gloved hand hovering underneath her chin now as Amanda finds her head being titled gently backward so she is looking up into Olivia's dark and penetrating eyes, a new emotion visible in those chocolate orbs and one that sends a prickle of anxiety and confusion through her.

"Sweetheart, I need you to be truthful with me right now. Did someone hurt you tonight? Should I be taking you to the hospital to be examined?"

There is a deep frown etched into Amanda's delicate features now and one that matches Olivia's own as she follows the other woman's gaze when it darts away from her teary blue eyes and lingers somewhere lower, her stomach tightening when she sees the thin trickle of blood along the inside of one bare thigh. Her dress has ridden far too high up her legs, exposing pale skin that gleams in the weak light from a nearby streetlamp, and she realizes how this must look from Olivia's point of view; that she is lying in a discarded heap in a dirty alleyway next to a bar, barely clothed on this freezing cold night with blood streaking her thighs, and that Olivia is likely assuming she has just been assaulted.

For a brief moment, Amanda wonders if she has hurt herself worse than she had originally thought after taking a spill in her high heels on such a slippery surface, before the scene that had taken place in the bathroom comes rushing right back to her, and she bites her lip to hold in a shameful sob. "No one hurt me," she assures Olivia quickly, reminded of how harsh the sex had been when she feels an ache between her legs and recalls the scrape of fingernails against her tender walls. "It was consensual. It just got a little bit rough."

There is a wary silence permeating the alley now as if Olivia is debating what to say next, and Amanda snuggles further into the taller woman's chest when a shiver racks her small frame, whimpering, "I'm so cold, Liv," into the soft folds of her jacket.

This statement seems to spur Olivia into action, her sergeant's hands skimming over Amanda's bare legs and inhaling a sharp breath in response as if shocked to feel just how cold her detective actually is, and Amanda feels herself being lifted slowly to her feet. She wobbles uncertainly when she is finally standing upright again and lets Olivia lead her to the cab that is waiting by the curb, the older woman asking repeatedly if they need to go to the emergency room for any injuries that Amanda had sustained in her fall or otherwise, and handing her a tissue from her purse to clean the blood on her leg.

Amanda is absolutely adamant that they will not be going to the hospital and she will be fine after a good night's sleep, uncontrollable shivers wracking her slender body once she is huddled with Olivia in the backseat of the taxi. She listens as the older woman instructs the driver to crank up the heat as high as it will go, directing the man to her own apartment instead of Amanda's, and another swell of tears prick insistently at her eyelids when she sees Olivia shrugging out of her coat to drape it across her lap.

The material of the jacket smells like gusty wind and fireplace smoke and Olivia's perfume, a surprised elation briefly taking the place of her all-consuming despair when Amanda is suddenly pulled flush against the brunette's curvy body, Olivia's arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. "Let me try to warm you up," the other woman whispers into her ear, and this time the shiver that races down Amanda's spine has nothing to do with the winter weather.

It doesn't take long before a pleasant and welcoming heat begins to infuse the interior of the vehicle, Amanda's frozen limbs thawing bit by bit as she cuddles further into Olivia's embrace, her boss' hands rubbing occasionally up and down her arms as if Olivia is indeed determined to warm Amanda up. This is the first time they have been pressed so intimately together like this for such a lengthy amount of time, Amanda waiting for Olivia to come to her senses and pull away from her inebriated and annoying subordinate, but the dreaded action never comes and Olivia keeps her arms wrapped tightly around Amanda's quivering figure for the duration of their ride.

When they are safely upstairs in Olivia's apartment, the older woman guides her into the bathroom and helps her sit down on top of the closed lid of the toilet before wetting a washcloth in the sink. When Olivia kneels in front of her and begins stroking the cloth very gently over the cold skin of Amanda's calf, the trickle of blood having reached her ankle and Amanda too tired and frozen to take care of the mess in the cab, she is forced to look away from her boss' probing gaze.

That familiar shame and regret is wrapped so tightly around her chest that it's difficult to take a deep breath without choking on it, and Amanda has to swallow back another sob when Olivia rests one hand on her knee and says her name softly. She is aware of the brunette trying to hand her the cloth in order to take care of the inner part of her thigh that is still streaked a bright crimson color, Amanda wincing at the pain in her groin and holding her fingertips against the crotch of her underwear before realizing what she is doing.

Olivia's eyes have followed the movement of her hand and Amanda quickly closes her legs, guessing there is also blood visible on her panties and wanting to hide the evidence of her rough sexual encounter from the woman she is in love with. "Amanda, are you sure you don't need to see a doctor?" Her sergeant's voice is tender and non-judgmental when she speaks, fingers tightening around her kneecap. "How badly did he hurt you, sweetheart?"

"She," Amanda mumbles in response, ducking her head down and letting her long blonde hair cover her face when Olivia leans closer as if to hear her better.

"What was that, honey?"

"It was a she, not a he," Amanda confirms almost inaudibly, neglecting to mention that the female she has been engaging in drunken public sex acts with bears an uncanny resemblance to her boss. "Her fingernail scraped me really hard by accident...inside."

She suddenly wishes to be much more inebriated than she actually is at the moment, feeling far too coherent right now despite the large amount of alcohol she had consumed at the bar; every emotion and thought and physical pain seemingly enhanced to a greater degree. She quickly swipes the cloth up the insides of both thighs before clamping her legs shut and huddling into herself, the chills that had wracked her body outdoors starting up again despite being ensconced in Olivia's warm apartment.

"Amanda, maybe you need to be examined by a doctor," Olivia suggests again in a very quiet tone, the older woman sitting back on her heels so she is gazing up at her and not showing any reaction whatsoever to her revelation of having sex with a woman. "If you're bleeding and in pain, I think you should be looked at by a medical professional."

"No," Amanda replies firmly, trying to infuse as much authority as she possibly can into her tone so that Olivia will know there's no room for argument. "I'll be fine, Liv, really. There's barely any blood and the pain will subside soon. This isn't..." She trails off and bites down on her lower lip, trying to keep herself from blurting out her next words.

"What were you going to say?" Olivia asks softly, shifting slightly closer to her on the floor and those brown eyes practically boring a hole into her own blue orbs. "That this isn't the first time something like this has happened? Do you engage in rough sex often, Amanda?"

"Mind your own business," she retorts with a scoff and a flippant wave of her hand, intent on ignoring the fiery red blush that she can feel suffusing her pale cheeks with color. "I told you that it was consensual. What I do in my personal time should be no concern of yours."

"Oh, really?" Olivia responds curtly, an eyebrow arching in challenge. "If it's no concern of mine, why did you call me tonight, then? Why didn't you call Fin or Nick or someone else? I know you have much closer relationships to the other members of our squad than you do with me."

"Whose fault is that?" Amanda mutters accusingly under her breath, the words spilling from her lips like they have a mind of their own and she has no control over what is being said.

"Amanda." Her name is emitted on a weary sigh from Olivia's lips, the older woman's eyes squeezing shut for a few seconds before opening again and fixing intently on her once more. "If you want us to be closer, how about you start by opening up a bit and telling me what's going on?"

"There's no point," Amanda murmurs in defeat, her shoulders slumping as her head droops down toward her chest, and she is able to fully admit to herself what a terrible idea this was; that as much as she wants more with Olivia than they currently have, whether that be a friendship or a relationship, she is just too screwed up and too far gone. "I'll never get back into your good graces now. I'm such a complete fuck-up that I'd be better off..."

Her voice is trailing into nothing again, the rest of the sentence fading on her tongue before it can be spoken, and Olivia is gripping onto her knees with a firmer grasp now, the other woman's face appearing below her own and a hand moving Amanda's hair out of the way, like her sergeant is determined to re-establish eye contact between them. Smooth fingertips are lifting her chin up, Olivia repeating the gesture from earlier in the alleyway, and the tears are flowing swiftly down Amanda's cheeks again when she meets her boss' intense gaze.

"What were you going to say?" Olivia repeats gently, although there is a hint of something more stern beneath the tenderness, like she is thoroughly intending on making her detective talk. "You would be better off what?"

"Just forget it," Amanda sniffs as she drags an arm across her face in an effort to rid herself of these embarrassing tears that refuse to stop falling. "Just forget about everything, okay? Forget this night even happened. I'll go home and let you get on with your evening. I know you must have more important things on your mind, especially considering you and Cassidy just broke up. I'll leave you alone now."

"And if I don't want to be left alone?" Olivia counters firmly, both eyebrows raised high as they stare each other down. "If I want you to stay, are you still going to leave? What if I also need the company because I'm upset tonight? What if I actually want you here with me?"

"But you _don't_ ," Amanda answers with a roll of her eyes and a stifled cry, her breath catching inside her throat. "You're just saying that."

"I don't say things that I don't mean, Amanda." The brunette's voice is sharp, the usual tone that she takes with her subordinate seeming to edge out the softness, and Amanda gets to her feet with a small sob, wobbling there unsteadily while Olivia quickly scrambles up to stand beside her.

"Look, why don't you take a hot shower while I find something warmer for you to wear?" she suggests more gently, Amanda shrugging Olivia's hand off her shoulder when she feels the older woman's touch. "I can make us some tea and we can get comfortable under the blanket on the couch and talk for a little while. What do you think? Does that sound like a good plan?"

"Why do you even want to talk to me, Olivia?" Amanda's voice is tiny and brittle when she answers, and she wonders where that confident, sassy detective from the past has gone and if she is ever coming back; barely recognizing the broken shell of a person that she has become over the last several weeks. "I'm not worth your time."

Even though Amanda was the one to initiate this encounter between them, wanting nothing more than to turn around and collapse into Olivia's strong embrace and have the taller woman hold her while she cries and forgive all her sins, she knows that truer words have never been spoken.

She isn't worth it.

xxxxxxxxxx

 _*Song lyrics from Florence and the Machine's "Sky Full of Song"_


End file.
